Page 37 of The Don’s Virgin Obsession

“Yeah.” I walked over and sat across from him.

He studied me for a second. “You look tired.”

“I’m straight.”

“You don’t look straight.”

I leaned back in the chair. “Long day.”

“That’s every day for you,” he said.

I nodded. He wasn’t wrong.

“You worked on Crown Heights today?” he asked.

“Yeah. Interior designer locked in today.”

He nodded slowly. “You check the contract?”

“Yeah, I wrote it.”

“Check it again with our lawyer.”

“Don’t need to.”

He leaned back, breathing a little heavier than usual. I watched him longer than I meant to. He wasn’t getting better. He was fading away from me. He had lung disease for a long time. Years of smoking cigarettes.

“You eating?” I asked.

“Yeah. Ya momma made beef stew.”

“You sure you ate it?”

He gave me a look. “I said yeah.”

I nodded and stood up. I grabbed his medication off the table and handed it to him without saying anything. He took it, no argument.

“You don’t have to come here every day,” he said.

“But I still do. You’re my pops.”

I stayed for a little while longer, watching TV with him until he fell asleep, went to make my mom laugh, then headed out.

By the time I got home, the quiet hit different. I dropped my keys on the counter, took off my shirt, and walked straight to the kitchen for a bottle of water.

My phone buzzed in my hand.

Alana: You disappeared on me.

Nia: What you doing tonight?

Another number popped up. Then another. All women I ain’t care for tonight.

I scrolled. Didn’t answer none of them.

Vanessa’s text came through.

V Baby: Sooooo Bennett Interiors? You moving funny